


No Exception

by JuliaJekyll



Series: Good Omens One Shots [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel/Demon Relationship, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Married Couple, Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:06:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23369692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaJekyll/pseuds/JuliaJekyll
Summary: Aziraphale makes Crowley wait. It's worth it.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens One Shots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1544350
Comments: 16
Kudos: 125





	No Exception

“How much longer, angel?”

  
“Hard to say, dear. A few hours, perhaps?”

  
Crowley made a noise between a groan and a growl, and Aziraphale smiled slyly into the phone. His husband did make the sexiest noises when he was frustrated.

  
“You cannot,” Crowley said, nearly panting, “send me a photo like that and then expect me not to want to wank myself into the next Apocalypse, Aziraphale."

  
“Oh, I didn’t. I fully expected you to want exactly that. You can _want_ it all you like. You’re just not allowed to _do_ it.” 

  
“You are such a _bastard_.” 

  
“That’s as may be, but I’m the bastard who owns your penis, darling. Aren’t I?” 

  
Crowley made another frustrated noise. Aziraphale’s stomach fluttered with excitement. Torturing Crowley like this was exquisitely good; it all but guaranteed him a luscious and fulfilling show as soon as he got home, and besides, it was lovely to see that he could still drive his husband to the point of madness even after two years of healthily sexual marriage. “Aren’t I?” he repeated in a firmer voice. 

  
Crowley sighed. “Yes. You are.” 

  
“Again, please, dear. Nice and loud.” 

  
Crowley huffed, but complied: “You own my cock, angel.” 

  
“And what does that mean?” 

  
“It means you decide when and how it gets touched, and when and how I get to come.” 

  
“Very good, sweetheart. And you like that, don’t you?”

  
“Yes, angel.” 

  
“And you trust me to give you what you need?” 

  
“Yes, angel.” 

  
“You’re so good for me, Crowley, and I promise I’ll take care of you when I get home. Can you wait for me, my beauty?” 

  
“Yes,” Crowley said. “I can. But it’ll be hard. Pun completely intended.” 

  
“Tell me something, dear. Are you fully erect right now?” 

  
“Mmm, not quite. More than halfway, though.” 

  
“I’d like you to take another look at the photo as soon as I hang up. Will you do that for me?” 

  
Crowley groaned. “You’re a tormentor.” 

  
“But I always make it worth your while to be tormented, dearest. Don’t I?” 

  
“Ngk.” 

  
“Look at the photo again when I hang up. Think about whatever you like, but keep your hands away from my property. Do we understand each other?” 

  
“Yes, angel.” 

  
“Good. I love you, Crowley. I’ll see you soon.” 

  
“Soon, or in a few hours?” 

  
“The two things are roughly the same for two immortal beings, surely?” 

  
“Not when one of them’s hard as a rock and not allowed to touch himself.” 

  
Aziraphale laughed lightly. “I’ll see you later today, then.” 

  
“Fine. I’ll just be here with my throbbing cock.” 

  
“That would be _my_ throbbing cock, dear. Goodbye.” He hung up.

  
Crowley let the phone drop away from his ear and sprawled over the armchair he’d recently acquired for the back room of Aziraphale’s bookshop. He wondered if taking his trousers off was allowed. His erection was not responding well to its confinement within them. 

  
His phone dinged with a text, and Crowley picked it back up to look at it. 

  
_From: Aziraphale_

  
_28 Mar 15:13_

  
_Don’t forget to look at the photo, dear. Love you!_

  
Crowley sighed. “Sure, angel,” he muttered under his breath. “Let me just continue the torture on myself.” He scrolled up to the previous message and opened the photo again.

Fuck. 

  
It was quite simple, really; just Aziraphale’s hand, wedding band on his ring finger, resting on his chest, and a view down to his stomach, over the ridge of which Crowley could just barely see his cock. 

  
Crowley gulped. He’d literally started salivating. It really didn’t take much to turn him on, where his husband was concerned. 

  
Now fully hard, he dropped back into the chair, desperately resisting the urge to palm himself through his trousers. He had to shift to find an even vaguely comfortable position with the... obstacle between his legs. 

  
“Fuuuuck,” he moaned, dropping his head back, spreading his thighs. He stared up at the ceiling, fingers dancing restlessly at his sides, itching to grab his dick. He raised his hips and made a few rather pathetic attempts to thrust upwards, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head at the feel of his tight trousers providing a bit of friction on his aching erection. It helped, a little, but it wasn’t even close to enough. Nothing but Aziraphale’s touch could possibly be enough. 

  
_Don’t even think about giving in,_ he told himself firmly. _It’ll be worth it when he comes home, takes these off, wraps his warm hands around my - damn it, this isn’t helping._

  
Crowley pressed his hands over his eyes and growled, loudly and irritably. _Hurry home, angel,_ he thought. _I’m more than ready for you._

  
The most frustrating thing about this whole situation was that he’d been about to have a wank anyway, before Aziraphale had called. He'd been alone in London for two days already, as Aziraphale was off at some kind of booksellers' conference. Twenty minutes or so ago he'd been absentmindedly stroking his cock through his trousers, feeling it harden under his fingers while he'd thought about what he'd be doing with Aziraphale if he were there in bed with him, and then he’d decided to drop the pretense and just have at it. No sooner had he got a hand down his pants than Aziraphale had sent that photo, then called him and utterly ruined his masturbation plans. Almost as if he’d done it on purpose. 

  
Trying to ignore his prickly arousal, Crowley took his phone in his hand again and scrolled to the end of his text messages with Aziraphale. Carefully averting his eyes from the slice of the sexy photo that was still visible in the chat window, his fingers began to type: 

  
_I can’t_

  
He bit his lip and leaned back in the chair. His thumb trembled over the ‘send’ button. 

  
Crowley knew that if he sent it - if he gave up and told Aziraphale that he honestly couldn’t do it - Aziraphale would have mercy on him. He’d request a video, which Crowley would make, and then when he came home they’d watch it and probably get off together. 

  
It was dreadfully tempting. 

  
Crowley placed both thumbs back on the keys and kept typing: 

  
_Angel, I can’t. I want you too much. I love you too much. You are impossible to resist. You’re so bloody gorgeous and you’ve just sent me a photo with at least one third of your gorgeous bits on display. You expect too much from me. You’re overestimating me and my willpower._

  
He sighed and leaned back a little, and as he did he realised that his erection had gone down a bit. Encouraged, he kept typing:

  
_You’re also probably underestimating how much I want you. Honestly, you turn me on SO MUCH._

  
Crowley leaned back again and closed his eyes. He wasn’t hard anymore, but his cock was still awake, waiting for the slightest provocation. 

  
Crowley squeezed his eyes shut and buried his hands in his hair, thinking about what else he could write, thinking about whether he should send the messages or just delete them. At some point, he began to sink deeper into the chair, thoughts of Aziraphale - a fully-clothed Aziraphale, mind you - filtering through his mind.

  
Distracted from his carnal desires by tamer mental images of his husband, Crowley relaxed, breathing deeply. Maybe he _could_ do this. Maybe he _could_ wait for Aziraphale to come home so that he could get a proper servicing…

  
Another deep breath. _Focus, Anthony._

  
The chair was comfortable, and the thoughts were soothing. It didn’t take long for him to drop off, if not quite into sleep, then into a gently dreamy state, in and out of consciousness, and that served him well until Aziraphale came home. 

  
“Darling?” 

  
Crowley bolted to his feet so fast it gave him a head rush, which forced him promptly back into the chair. “Augh, fuck,” he groaned, dropping his head forward, between his knees. “In here, angel!” he called as the vertigo receded. 

  
Aziraphale came into the room looking concerned. “Dear? Are you alright?” he asked. Noting Crowley’s position, he lowered himself to one knee to look at him. “What happened?” 

  
“‘M fine, I just...stood up too fast.” Crowley lifted his head to look at his husband. “Hi, angel.” 

  
“Hi, love.” Aziraphale reached for his hand, which Crowley promptly gave him. They gazed at each other for a moment, and then Crowley leaned forward to kiss him. 

  
Aziraphale ended up in his lap rather quickly, and Crowley was hard again in record time, pressing himself against the angel’s leg. Aziraphale groaned lightly and dropped his head to kiss along Crowley’s neck. “Waiting for me, were you?” he whispered, left hand deftly unbuttoning Crowley’s shirt while his right trailed down his thigh. 

  
“Very impatiently.” Crowley groped clumsily at Aziraphale’s backside. “I almost gave up after you made me look at that photo again.” 

  
“But you didn’t?” Aziraphale pulled back to look at him. 

  
Crowley shook his head. “I didn’t.” 

“Not even a touch?” 

  
“Not even a touch.” 

  
“Impressive. You did well, darling. You did so well, following my rule. I'm very proud of you.” Aziraphale nibbled lightly at Crowley’s ear, and the demon pressed his hips against him again. 

  
“Oooh,” Aziraphale said. “I felt that.” 

  
“Good. Do something about it. I’m in agony.” 

  
Aziraphale lifted his head and moved forward as if to kiss Crowley, but then bit his lower lip instead. “You certainly deserve to be seen to,” he hissed, not separating their mouths, “but first I’ll need you to tell me how much you want it.” 

  
“Oh, angel.” Crowley’s shirt was open now, and he could feel Aziraphale’s hands gliding over his chest. “I thought you said you could feel it.” He tried to press his erection against Aziraphale again to make his point, but the angel had shifted, and he couldn’t get the proper angle. Aziraphale’s mouth caressed his neck again, and Crowley felt the scrape of his teeth. 

  
“I want to hear it, too,” Aziraphale said. His bites moved down to Crowley’s collarbone, and Crowley struggled to get his shirt all the way off. 

  
“Fine,” he murmured, as he tossed his own shirt aside and then slipped his hands under Aziraphale’s waistcoat. “I looked at the photo again, when you told me to, and - _oh_ , that feels good - then I just sat here with my hands itching, wanting to grab my cock. I nearly - _ooh, Aziraphale_ \- I nearly gave in.” 

  
Aziraphale’s hands trailed down to the buttons of Crowley’s trousers and he began to work them open. As his fingers finally made contact with Crowley’s hardness, the demon sighed in relief. “Oh, yes, that’s it…” 

  
Aziraphale dropped from Crowley’s lap and back onto his knees on the floor. He leaned forward and ghosted his lips over the front of Crowley’s trousers, which were unbuttoned but still covering his penis. “You’re desperate, aren’t you, darling? You _need_ my mouth on you. You want me to take care of you, don’t you?” 

  
“Yes! Angel, please, stop _teasing_ \- oh, _yes_!”

  
In a lightning-fast motion, Aziraphale had pulled his trousers out of the way and sealed his mouth over Crowley’s cock, and Crowley was writhing in the chair and trying not to finish before his husband had had the chance to make all the waiting worthwhile. 

  
“Angel…” he dug his fingers into the chair and, unable to help himself, thrust up into Aziraphale’s mouth. “Angel, yes, _yes_...harder, come on, suck me…” 

  
The suction on his cock increased, and Crowley moaned deep in his throat. “Ohh, Aziraphale...yes.... _oh_ , I’ve been waiting for... _mmmm_...this…” 

  
Aziraphale’s hands sank into Crowley’s hips as he took Crowley’s cock all the way down. Crowley bit his lip and stared up at the ceiling, his eyes rolling back as his husband sucked him off. 

  
Just as Crowley was starting to feel an orgasm building inside, Aziraphale pulled off. Crowley lifted his head to look at him. “Angel! What-”

  
Smoothly, Aziraphale slid back into Crowley’s lap and wrapped a hand around his cock, which was now slick with Aziraphale’s saliva, and began to pump it briskly. His eyes were dark with arousal as he leaned in to press kisses to Crowley’s upper chest and neck. “Don’t worry, dear,” he growled, his free hand digging into the back of Crowley’s neck. “I’ve got you. I'm going to give you what you earned.” 

  
Crowley leaned back again. Sensation was everywhere - Aziraphale’s skillful hand on his dick, his tongue on his neck, his body warm against Crowley’s... _finally_ , he was getting what he’d been craving all day, and Satan, was it better than his own hand. 

  
“Angel,” Crowley moaned, hips trembling, “I’m going to-”

  
“Hold on, dear,” Aziraphale said, slowing his pace, making Crowley groan with frustration as he tried to buck into Aziraphale’s fist. “Hold on another moment.” He kissed Crowley messily on the lips. Crowley was slow to respond, as all of his focus was on the tightening in his groin that meant he was going to come. Oh, he wanted to come. 

  
“Angel, please,” he begged, as Aziraphale kissed him again, his hand still moving slowly. 

  
“That’s it, dear,” Aziraphale whispered, lips brushing Crowley’s cheek. “Beg me for it. Beg me to release you.”

  
“Aziraphale, please let me come. I’ve been waiting all day for you...I need to come, please!”

  
“As you wish, my love.” Aziraphale kissed Crowley once more, then sped up his hand. Crowley’s entire body convulsed, and he came so fast he barely realised it was happening until he’d already coated Aziraphale’s hand in come and waves of pleasure were rolling through him. He melted into the chair, sagging back against the pillows, his hands falling to his sides as he relaxed for the first time that day. 

  
“Mmmm,” he said, as Aziraphale stood up to clean off his hands. Crowley closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of post-orgasmic bliss. “That was amazing.” 

  
“Worth the wait?” Aziraphale asked, his voice teasing as he leaned down to kiss the top of his husband’s head. 

  
Crowley smiled, his eyes still closed. “It’s been worth it every time I’ve waited for you to do anything, angel.” He reached for Aziraphale’s hand and kissed the back of it, running his thumb across the angel’s wedding ring. “This time was no exception.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoyed the fic? Let me know!


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